


October Song//Ben Hargreeves

by amongthestars89



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Death, F/F, F/M, Heartbreak, Lies, Love, M/M, Past Abuse, Protective Siblings, Siblings, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Teenage Drama, Time Travel, Umbrella Academy - Freeform, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:07:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25790098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amongthestars89/pseuds/amongthestars89
Summary: After 13 years apart, Ava finds herself entangled in the Hargreeves' drama once more.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves/Luther Hargreeves, Number Six | Ben Hargreeves/Original Female Character(s), Vanya Hargreeves/Leonard Peabody, Vanya Hargreeves/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. 001.

_Life, in its simplest form, is an exercise in avoiding death…_

The words of a cruel man, Ava Wei knew, but still true in a sense. Even so, they never seemed to matter to her—she saw and heard death every day—some could argue she almost sought it out, herself. With any hospital job, it had to be expected. She was no doctor or nurse, however—most of her time there spent confined to the front desk—checking in patients or taking urgent phone calls. Although not nearly as exciting as preforming open-heart surgery and the like, she found contentment and took pride in knowing she was at least helping others in some way, despite the often rude or abrasive treatment she received from frantic civilians.

Arriving promptly every morning at 6 am, taking her place behind her desk, Ava tended to those who’d been in the waiting room for who-knows how long, and today was no different.

“Alright, you’re all set! If you have any more questions or if the medication isn’t working, please don’t hesitate to call back,” she told the now-calmer sounding mother on the other line. “Okay, bye-bye.” Ava bid her goodbye just as a young boy and a woman she assumed was his mother came through the door. He was quiet, teary-eyed, and holding his own wrist protectively against his chest. Hanging up the now dead-tolling phone, she straightened up in her chair as the pair approached.

“Hello, my son fell and hurt his wrist. I don’t know if its broken or just sprained but he says he’s in a lot of pain,” the woman explained automatically, hurried in her speech and by Ava’s judgement, attempting not to cry in front of him. Though not the first time she’d seen such a case, her heart still ached at the sight.

“Yes, we’ll get that checked out right away—may I have the child’s name?” Ava inquired, turning to the old computer beside her, and resting her hands on the keyboard in preparation.

“Ben—Benjamin J. Laurence.” the woman answered, clarifying how to spell their last name moments after. Upon hearing the boy’s first name, Ava couldn’t help but crack a sad smile. It had been a while since she’d last met anyone with the title. No one as impactful on her life, at least. Shaking off the brief lapse in her focus, she returned her attention to the matter at hand.

“Thank you, fill out this form, and someone will be with you shortly,” Ava informed the mother, handing her a clipboard with a blank sheet and a pen tucked into the metal clamp at the top. Nodding somberly, the woman accepted the paperwork and escorted her injured son to a seat in the corner of the small, grey waiting room. Right as she went to go about locating the boy’s file, the numbing silence of the space around them was suddenly thrust into disarray by a disheveled young woman stumbling in through the doorway. Her silk evening gown was torn in various places, only one matching heel on her left foot and long, bleach-blonde hair that obscured her face almost entirely. Seconds later, a coworker from the ER arrived behind her—looking to be out of breath and secretly very annoyed. His name was Damion.

“Hey, Ava—I’m sorry, she wouldn’t stop asking for you and then she just took off running,” he informed her, leaning against the doorframe as he caught his breath.

Narrowing her eyes in concern, Ava stood up from her chair and made her way over cautiously to the possibly unstable newcomer. 

“Ma’am are you alright?” she asked gently, lowering herself down to the stranger’s level so as to try to catch a glimpse of her face. Damion had said she’d been asking for her, after all. Taking in a deep intake of air, the woman threw her head up to look at Ava, but when her mess of unkempt hair fell away from her face, any explanation became unnecessary to the inquiring receptionist.

“Zoe?”

She’d know her twin sister’s face anywhere…


	2. 002.

“Ava! It’s me, Zoe!” exclaimed the ailing girl in her arms, causing quite a bit of alarm to everyone present in the room with them. Then, without much forewarning, the incensed woman sat up slightly, grabbing Ava by the collar and leaning in close to her face. From the corner of her eye, she saw Damion flinch and upon meeting his gaze, received a silent offer of help via mouthed words and explanatory gestures. She shook her head, ‘no,’ in response—more concerned than worried at this point. “I have to tell you something—something important,” her sister finished through ragged breathing and the frantic darting of her eyes around the room. Ava frowned; of course, there was. Who had died this time? Did she really want to know?

“What? What is it?” she asked anyway, secretly dreading the answer. To her surprise, and mild disturbance—Zoe said nothing at first, a cheerful, if not slightly delirious smile spreading across her lips—a short laugh escaping them thereafter.

“It’s so good to see you again…” she said at last, conking out almost directly after. There was an air of pervasive silence that prevailed following this odd exchange, Damion being the one to break it with a question no doubt everyone had on their mind.

“What in the world was _that_?”

~

Leaning in the doorframe of the private room she’d requested Zoe be transported to, Ava stared at her still unconscious sister—wondering how their next interaction would go and what she had wanted so desperately to tell her earlier could be. Eleven years apart and she just suddenly decides to come stumbling back into her life. That was another thing—what had she been getting into that had made her so weak? Ava knew she’d always had a tendency to get a little woozy every now and then but never had she seen her _this_ frail before.

“Hey, Aves,” the voice of Angie, a friendly colleague of hers broke her out of the unknowing amount of concentration she’d allocated to watching Zoe. Turning to face her, Ava put on the most convincing smile she could in her current state.

“Hey, Ange,” she mimicked, a subdued version of her usual playfulness going along with it.

“Oh, stop it—I’m mad at you right now—when were you going to tell me you have an _identical_ twin sister?!” the nurse demanded, her tone thankfully remaining lighthearted in nature. Ava shrugged, letting out a sigh of dejectedness.

“I dunno—I never really think to anymore, we’re not exactly close, you know?” she confessed, hoping Angie would leave it at that.

“Oh, I’m sorry—did something happen? D-do you wanna talk about it?” she proposed, sounding regretful and subtly hesitant about the prospect to come if Ava accepted.

“Yeah, but it’s okay—thanks for the offer, though,” Ava replied, happy to give her coworker the easy way out. What had gone on between them was a can of worms she would not wish anyone to be forced to listen to.

“Alright, well—let me know if you change your mind.” said Angie kindly, leaving her with a gentle pat on the shoulder as she went on her way. Glancing down at the floor, Ava mentally prepared herself preceding her entrance into the space where the person she had up until today, spent so long trying to forget about. Approaching the bed where Zoe lay motionless in, she paused before quietly pulling up a chair to sit beside her. Looking her over, Ava couldn’t help but frown at the sight of bandages on various spots on her face. One at the bottom right of her lower lip, a few above her left eyebrow and one on her right cheek. She would have some explaining to do when she woke up, that was for sure. Yet even with all of these minor injuries, the dyed hair, and the manner in which she chose to reenter her life, Ava could truly see only one thing. Someone in need. And that someone happened to be her sister, no less. Talk of the past could wait until she was up and about again, at least.

Even so, that couldn’t stop Ava’s mind from going there, back over a decade ago…

~

_November 5 th, 2008. _

_“Ava—it’s time to get up! C’mon!” Zoe called to her from the kitchen of their small one-bedroom apartment. Ava groaned, the pep in her sister’s voice causing her to cover her ears with her pillow._

_“Does she ever sleep?” she cursed under her breath, climbing begrudgingly out of bed. Standing immobile for a moment, her eyes first went to the clock on her nightstand—which read 9:30 am—and then to the tearaway calendar pinned to the wall closest to the window. November 5 th. Her heart lurched in her chest. She knew it had been coming but supposed she hadn’t expected it to come so soon. Turning her head to the ceiling, she uttered these few words, “Has it been two years already, Benny?” _

_Pushing away the tears she could feel threatening to spill, Ava quickly made her way over to her closet—throwing on whatever was convenient but pausing when it caught her eye. His jacket. She wavered in her movement to take it—as if it would burn her the second she touched it. _

_“Ava!” startled, she took hold of it, and without another thought, put it on. It had been a while since she’d worn it—convinced if she did so too often, it would stop smelling like him altogether. She felt strange admitting it, but it was the truth. Ava sighed as she gave herself a brief onceover in the hallway mirror. If there was any day to wear it, she knew it was today._

_“Ah, there you are! ‘Swore you were going to sleep through half the day! We have so much to—” Zoe greeted her cheerfully, delaying to place a plate of waffles in front of her when she noticed the jacket. “—What are you wearing?” Ava was slow to react—too tired to get angry at her sister’s tactless behavior._

_“I can’t do anything today, Zo—I’m sorry,” she told her outright, aware her despondency tended to make her twin uncomfortable and stiff._

_“Why not? I booked your favorite spot at the theatre—I was really looking forward to—” Zoe whined, either not picking up on this or deliberately ignoring it. Ava narrowed her eyes in disbelief, gritting her teeth as the sluggishness she had before rapidly fell away, being replaced with fervent frustration._

_“’Why not?’ Do you seriously not know what day it is?” she implored, voice trembling with every emotion that was whirling through her mind. How on earth could she so easily forget what Ava had been begging to every day since? Eye-contact unbreaking, she scoffed when Zoe gasped, memory finally catching up with hers._

_“Oh goodness, Ava, I am so sorry—it completely slipped my mind—I thought that was tomorrow!” Ava heard Zoe try to express but it was too late—she was already on her way to the door. “C’mon, you can’t be mad at me for this! Where are you going?!”_

_Ava spared her one last glance—cold and disappointed._

_“Out.”_

~

“Ava?” said Damion, pulling her out of the memory. He was waiting at the door for her, his expression solemn and serious.

“Hi, Damion—what is it?” she asked, getting up from her chair, and meeting him where he stood. Giving her look of sympathy, the nurse reached for something in his scrubs’ pocket and produced a white, medium-sized envelope sealed with a familiar-looking umbrella stamp. Ava froze—could this hold what Zoe had been meaning to tell her?

“Found this putting all your sister’s belongings together—no name on it or anything but thought you might wanna have it,” his explanation hardly registering to the shell-shocked woman across from him. Extending the envelope out towards her, Ava quickly thanked him and took it—excusing herself back into Zoe’s room. Flipping over the newfound card, she paused, eyes flitting to her sleeping sister. Should she wait until she’s awake? No, she had to see what was in it—she had to have _something_ to go off of as to her unexpected presence. Whatever consequences that came with that, Ava would deal with later. Proceeding in her original motion, she peeled back the purple wax seal but what she saw on the paper inside seemed to only lead to more questions.

“What’s she need a map of the Umbrella Academy for?”


	3. 003.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, just thought I'd pop in to say thank you for such a wonderful first response to this silly lil story of mine! I seriously did not think it would get as many views as it has in such a short amount of time but thank you!! This one took a little longer to write because I wanted to make sure I'm putting out my very best version of every chapter for you all! As it is longer than the rest, I haven't gotten around to a full, comprehensive edit but I will probably update within the next day or two with corrections! Hope you enjoy! :)

Examining the oddly detailed blueprint, Ava wondered to herself why it had been created in the first place. Every room, every hallway, every outrageously expensive vase was there and labeled accordingly. By the way each individual bedroom was marked by the owner’s number instead of their name—it would almost appear that Sir. Reginald Hargeeves had drawn it up, himself. No, he’d never concern himself with such a  ‘pointless,’ activity as free-drawing, as she recalled him saying to her once. Her relationship with him, as many others, was  complicated,  to say the least…

~

September 1st, 1995

“Why are we back here, Mama?” Ava questioned as she was being unbuckled her booster seat and helped out of their car.

“Because your sister needs you, sweetie. I’ll be back to pick you both up in a bit.” her mother explained curtly, the underlying unease in her voice almost completely lost on Ava. She would’ve thought after over five years of motherhood, she’d be relatively used to the abnormality of her situation but no dice. There were just no books on ‘How-to-Raise-Your-Surprise-Miracle-Twins.’ An untapped market, indeed.

“Oh okay!” exclaimed Ava cheerily, taking her mother’s hand, and following along towards the massive and frankly intimidating mansion. Hopping happily up the stone steps all the way to the great glass-plated doors embolized with silhouetted umbrellas, she bounced on her heels as she waited for them to open. Rapping three times on the glass, Ms. Wei did not wait around for it to be answered, giving her 5-year-old a quick peck atop her head, and promptly fleeing back to her car.

Despite her awareness that she was the better-liked child—perhaps for her fairly mellow temperament or possibly just for the fact she possessed no powers to get herself into any major trouble, Ava could still sense a certain reluctance to be near her from her mother. She, in her naivete, presumed this was not merely a result of her presence, but rather that her mom was just ‘like that.’ Unaware that in the years leading up to her unanticipated birth, Cynthia Wei, had been one of the most lively and fearless women in her town with dreams of becoming a professional singer someday. Those dreams, as expected, were quickly dashed the second she came along.

“Oh, hello! You must be Ava.” said a woman with a particularly strong trans-Atlantic accent upon seeing her standing alone on the doorstep. She was tall, adorned in a beautiful red-checkered 50s-swing dress and white apron—with perfectly coiffed blonde hair and bright, vibrant blue eyes. Ava couldn’t help but marvel in her beauty—it seeming nearly inhuman in nature.

“Uh—yes, I’m here for my sister, Zoe.” she recited just as her mother had told her to. The woman nodded, directing a bright, disarming smile her way.

“Yes, of course—follow me,” she instructed kindly and gently, automatically putting Ava at ease as she crossed over the polished wooden threshold. Instantly she was taken by all that surrounded her—from the mountainous wood pillars to the large set of stairs she suspected would be perfect to sled down on. 

Remembering her manners, of course, she did not rush to test this theory. Yet right as they were advancing towards them, excitement rising in her chest, Ava was stunned when a brigade of frantic boys came rushing down them, the first of which accidentally running straight into her.

Laying mostly incapacitated on the carpet, Ava felt her head start to spin and her lungs ache for air as if she had dunked her head under the water in a pool for too long. All talk she heard from those nearby was now only background noise as she attempted to catch her breath, the woman from before too busy scolding the rest of the boys to notice her predicament.

“Ah—nice going, Ben—you got the wrong one!” she heard a strangely whimsical-sounding voice chastise the boy who had knocked her down. From her limited vantage point she could see he had light, ruffled brown hair and a certain doe-like quality in his hazel-green eyes.

“Oh, shut it, Klaus!” the one she identified as Ben snapped back, coming into full view when he got to his feet and went to her, extending a hand out for her to grab on to. Accepting this offer of help, Ava gave the boy a brief onceover—taking note of his short black hair and deep, enigmatic brown eyes. “Sorry about that— someone  was pushing me,” he apologized, shooting an annoyed glare Klaus’s way.

“Was not!” the other boy adamantly denied, hands clenching into fists as he stomped his feet. 

“Were too!” countered Ben, their argument rapidly devolving into a petty back-n-forth. Choosing to let them settle this disagreement themselves, Ava turned her attention on the blonde woman, who was speaking to another boy of which caught her off-guard if only for the fact that he was casually twirling a small, but rather sharp-looking throwing knife between his fingers. She guessed the house-rules for dangerous objects were different here. Pressing on, she walked up behind her, about to open her mouth to speak when there were more thunderous footsteps down the stairs and in a flash, found herself toppled to ground once again.

“Ava! Ava, thank goodness you’re here—they’re trying to hurt me!” cried Zoe, clinging onto her now immensely confused sister.

“What—” she was barely able to squeak out when a fourth boy suddenly appeared at the bottom of the steps in a flurry of teal-ish blue light.

“Uh, correction— you  were trying to hurt us.” he rebuked, a pointed sense of superiority about him as he straightened out the cuffs of his white button-up shirt. Shortly thereafter two additional children could be seen coming down the stairs—a girl with dark, curly brown hair and a boy with bright, blonde hair. By the way they chatted so freely with one another, it seemed the whole Zoe debacle had hardly registered with them at all, joining the rest of the children in the room with little urgency.

“Real A+ leadership back there, Luther—I nearly lost an eye.” the boy with the knife snarled.

“Well, maybe if you listened to me when I said to  leave her alone that wouldn’t have been made a possibility,” retorted the blonde snidely, his head held high like he was a nobleman speaking to a peasant. The rest of the kids collectively rolled their eyes at this exchange—suggesting they’d heard similar iterations of it too many times over to be genuinely concerned.

“Ah, yes because ignoring the problem is exactly how to solve it!” returned knife-boy, throwing his hands up dramatically. Luther narrowed his eyes, finally peeved enough to face his nay-sayer.

“You know you are so—”

“Enough!” a harsh and authoritative command rung out over the commotion, immediately sending everyone but Ava, Zoe, and the blonde woman into a frenzied line-formation in front of the source of said commander. He was entirely stone-faced, grey-haired dressed in a muted black suit with a monocle over his right eye. Next to him cowered a meek-faced girl with a clipboard held tightly in one hand, a stopwatch in the other. Watching in amazement and grave puzzlement as the man’s eyes scanned the scene, calculative and emotionless, it was as if all the world had gone quiet in anticipation for his next words,

“Where is Number Eight?”

~

For the remainder of that day, Ava couldn’t help but feel a tad… aimless. The doctor she’d talked to had told her all the damage Zoe had sustained was thankfully minimal, but that due to the sedative she’d been given when she arrived, it was best they let her wake on her own.

With this in mind, Ava had no reason not to resume work at her desk—knowing she’d most likely be spending the night, anyway. As the hours dragged on, her mind continued to wander back to long-suppressed memories of her time spent as an observer to the Umbrella Academy’s innumerable training sessions and all the many shenanigans they got up to in between. All moments that heavily involved Ben, which for her, amounted to most of them, were off-limits—her often taking to busying herself with mundane tasks to get her mind off them. Although the rest of them made her think—where had those kids she’d once known so well gone? Allison, she knew had blossomed into somewhat of a Hollywood darling—occasionally having noticed her in fairly big-name film productions or in more recent times, on the cover of a few trashy-tabloids at the grocery-store checkout line. Though never being quite as close with him as the rest of the members, the news of Luther’s moon-excursions had not escaped her. The whereabouts of her remaining childhood confidants, apart from Ben and Five, of course, she hadn’t the slightest clue of. Not that she’d really been searching for them.

Staring down at Zoe’s floorplan of the old building, however, made her wonder if she should be. Reaching for her breakroom’s only private-call phone, Ava exhaled before dialing the number of the one person she hoped would have some guiding wisdom on what she should do.

“Hey, sweetie—how’s it hanging?” said a kind, old voice on the other end of the staff breakroom phone—making Ava smile almost instantly, her nose scrunching up at the rather confident use of outdated slang.

Becoming a part of her family when she was about six years old, Ava was sure her adoptive father, Dr. Dan Clark, had been exactly what she and her mother were missing all along. Even if at first, she and Zoe didn’t see him that way.

“Hey, Dad—it’s hanging…fine. I uh, can I talk to you about something? A lot’s happened today,” she sighed, trying in vain to get more comfortable against the wall she was leaning on.

“Of course! Nothing involving that ex-fiancé of yours, I hope,” her adoptive father added concernedly, a note of subtle resentment sneaking in. Ava shook her head, laughing incredulously at how easily the biggest fiasco of her life in recent times had been put on the backburner by an even bigger one. Life was funny that way—in a ‘that friend that calls you names all the time and fails so magnificently at convincing you they’re just jokes’ kinda way.

“No, no—I haven’t heard from him in weeks—probably still stuck in Vegas with that newfound true love of his.” Ava joked, ignoring the dull ache in her heart. ‘One breakdown at a time,’ had become her rule over the years.

“What an idiot… Anyways, you had something on your mind?” the older man inquired warmly.

“Yeah, yeah—it’s about Zoe—she uh, she’s back, Dad.” Ava informed, the reality of it not entirely registering with her, herself.

“Oh my—really? When? Are you okay?” the amount of questions being asked of her all at once overwhelming to say the least. It was a rare occurrence that her dad ever sounded worried or serious, but it never failed to make Ava uneasy whenever he did. 

“Uh yeah, earlier this morning—and I don’t know, honestly—it’s just been a lot to take in, seeing her again after all this time, you know?” she could feel her resolve to keep her emotions in check breaking down by the tremors attacking her fingers and the sound of her own voice beginning to tremble. 

“Yes, I imagine it would be… Do you need me to come down there?” was her father’s next inquiry, and Ava knew the offer was fully sincere.

“No, that’s okay, Dad—” she wiped a few stray tears forming at the corner of her eye, “I just—I guess I needed to talk to someone who I know would understand, and so I wouldn’t have to go through explaining it all again.” Ava finished with a shaky laugh, thinking back to Angie’s prior extension to talk.

“I see—yeah, that’d be no fun—if they wanted all that they could just go read that Vanya-girl’s book,” her dad quipped with a short, slightly melancholic chuckle.  Vanya.  Though sure he had only said it to lighten the mood, the mention made Ava stop dead in her tracks. How could she forget about  her ? Back in the day they’d been so close, becoming friends before she’d even began to form a real relationship with Ben. Maybe she knew of some secret details hidden within the old academy—something that would explain the map Zoe had been found with. It was worth a try. “Ava, you still there?” Ava flinched at the unintentional scare her father had given her—recognizing how her pondering silence could’ve been misconstrued as something else.

“Yeah, sorry, Dad—I actually gotta go right now—but thank you for listening and I’ll check in with an update as soon as possible—love you, bye!” she sped hurriedly through her farewell, mentally promising to deliver on said vow later on before placing the phone back on its wall-mounted receiver. Right now, Ava had a mission to complete—and the first objective on her list was:  find Vanya’s number.

Just as she going to embark on the journey back to her desk, Ava got caught in a minor collision with someone at the door. It was Angie, and she looked to be in a hurry as well.

“Ava! I was just looking for you—you gotta come quick, your sister’s awake!”


	4. 004.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again, sorry this one took so long! Quite a lot happens in it so I wanted to get things as good as possible before I posted it. Also sorry if updates come slower than usual in the coming days--school's starting up again for me:[ But anyways, hope you enjoy!

The conversation after Zoe had come to was strange, to say the least.  
  
Upon being informed of her sudden consciousness, Ava had immediately abandoned her original quest to locate Vanya’s phone number to rush to Zoe’s room. When she got there, however, things did not go as she’d expected they would.  
  
“Ava? Is that you?” questioned Zoe drowsily as Ava spoke with the doctor overseeing her.

“Mmhmm.” she answered curtly, giving her sister a reassuring nod before turning back to the doctor attempting to update her on Zoe’s condition. She’d just been in the middle of notifying her of some of the symptoms to the sedative they’d administered when as if on cue, Zoe exhibited one herself—catching Ava off-guard when she grabbed her hand without warning.

“Are you an angel?” came her abrupt inquisition, a dazed smile appearing on her face. Chuckling lightly at the absurdity of this and her situation in general, Ava shook her head, ‘no.’

“No, I’m your sister.” she clarified, giving Zoe’s hand a gentle squeeze prior to letting it go.

“Ha, nice try—I can totally see your wings.” argued the hazy girl with a grin of pride painting her lips. Laughing again, Ava went to respond a second time but was swiftly interrupted by the kind doctor.

“That was about all I needed to inform you on—I’ll let you two catch up,” she said, excusing herself from the room.  
  
Now alone once more, this time with the added pressure of making actual conversation—Ava decided to save the Hargreeves-talk for when Zoe was better able to answer and instead find out where she’d been all this time.

“Hey, Zoe—” Ava began, turning to face her sister once again.

“What’re you doing all the way over there? Come sit with me.” Zoe interjected with a kind, but puzzled expression, scooting over and patting the new space next to her. Blowing out a deep breath, she took a second to compose herself before joining her on the small twin bed. It was like being a kid all over again—when particularly heavy storms rolled in—Ava would find herself being woken by a frightened plea from her sister to let her sleep next to her for the rest of the night. Then, feeling an arm curl around her shoulder, it really did feel like she was there now—but when she heard sniffles and the beginnings of labored breaths, she remembered at once that she wasn’t.

“Zoe? Hey, what’s wrong? It’s okay—shh, shh,” Ava cooed, wrapping Zoe’s crying form in her arms, amazed and alarmed at how thin she’d become. 

“Oh, Ava—I’m sorry—I’m so sorry…” the frail girl whimpered into her chest, staining her teal-blue scrubs with her tears.

“For what?” inquired Ava, too concerned with the nature of Zoe’s physical declination to bother with any past wrongdoings she might’ve committed towards her. Lifting her head to stare her dead in the eye, wholly incensed with frantic emotion, Zoe put it as simply as possible,

“For everything.”

~

  
“Out.” Ava snapped, slamming the door loudly behind her. Making her way down the steps to her building’s front exit, she knew exactly where she was making her first stop, and to her great relief, Zoe did not follow.  
  
Stepping out into the brisk autumn air, Ava tugged the worn leather jacket she’d come to treasure more than anything else she owned and set off in search of a very special place. The Crest Library on 5th Avenue.

“Ava! Hey, haven’t seen you in a while.” greeted the kindly old librarian with a smile upon her entrance into the building. Ava smiled back—recollections of all the times past she and Ben had come in together. Him, always in the mood to devour as many titles as possible in the limited time they had on any given Saturday while she was content simply watching him browse or listening to him read quietly in one of its many cozy nooks. For almost a year succeeding his death, she had adamantly refused to set foot in it—returning only when the day that marked its first anniversary rolled around.

“Hi, Mrs. Kitcher.” she replied politely, knowing exactly what her follow-up would be. She had seen just how distraught Ava had looked on that dreadful day the year before and offered to help her in any way she could.

“You need any help finding anything today?” the greying woman questioned, tone warm and sincere.  
  
“No, I think I’ll be alright this time—but thank you for asking, it means a lot.” Ava admitted, a weak simper playing on her lips.  
  
Clutching the book she’d decided upon tightly against her chest, Ava walked on—stopping when she reached a familiar flower-stand. The man who ran it had done so for years and though his aging mind had begun to trouble him with remembering things—she was pleasantly surprised to find that he knew what she was looking for the moment her name clicked in his head. A bouquet of deep-red roses. Ben was always a fan of the classics.

Continuing on her trip down memory lane, doing a quick walkthrough the local park to stand by the white stone bench she and Ben always used to watch the ducks from, when it actually came time to go to his grave, Ava felt her heart weighing more than usual in her chest. As if avoiding the house itself wasn’t a great ordeal in the first place—actively seeking it out was even worse. Keeping her head down as she turned the corner onto the courtyard entrance—hands already chilled by the biting-cold air, she was none more grateful to see the gate had been left unlocked. Whether the act was intentional or not, she couldn’t say, but she was grateful, nonetheless. Dead leaves crackling beneath her boots, Ava allowed herself no time to prepare for the sight of that ghastly statue that stood ominously above her lost lover’s grave. She didn’t think it even really looked like him—much less that Ben would’ve liked it anyway. Its face did not remind her in the slightest of the boy she’d fallen in love with for he never looked as stoic or emotionless as whoever made the call to sculpt him that way. Even so, she supposed it was nice to have something like him to speak to.

“H-hey, Benny.” Ava began shakily, eyes unable to maintain contact with the figure for more than a few seconds at a time. Setting the roses at its feet, she stood back, book held firmly in her grasp. ‘The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova.’ For weeks before the fateful incident, she had known he’d been searching desperately for a copy—Russia being the only place that distributed them. On one of the many days they had spent swapping titles in the library, when she’d handed an abridged version over to him, he was incensed—not setting it down until he finished it. “I know I was a mess last time I came to visit but I swear I’m going to finish reading this to you no matter what.” she promised, determination in her voice as she sat down—doing her best to ignore the sharp pang of frozen dirt nipping at her legs and creeping up the rest of her body. And that she did.

Ava read and read—sure her lips must’ve resembled that of freeze-dried blueberries once she’d reached the very last poem. The world around her had hardly changed in the time it took, it seemed—though she guessed it had been at least a few hours or so since she started. Flipping to the final page in the lengthy book, and pooling all the strength she had left in her throat, she recited it:  
  
The Sentence  
  
And the stone word fell  
On my still-living breast.  
Never mind, I was ready.  
I will manage somehow.  
  
Today I have so much to do:  
I must kill memory once and for all,  
I must turn my soul to stone,  
  
I must learn to live again—  
  
Unless… Summer’s ardent rustling  
Is like a festival outside my window.  
For a long time I’ve foreseen this  
Brilliant day, deserted house

‘Brilliant day,’ she wasn’t so convinced—but in closing the hardcover, Ava felt a certain odd peace wash over her—though she wondered if that was just a touch of hypothermia beginning to set in. In any case, she was cognizant that it was about time to head back home and deal with any blowback Zoe had in store for her. But for one moment more, she could pretend she didn’t—rising to her feet and leaving his supposed likeness with these brief, parting words,

“I don’t know if you can hear me, Ben but… I want you to know I love you—I always will.”

Stretching out her walk home as long as she could, Ava found herself pausing when she happened upon a tattoo parlor, she must’ve passed a million times before. It wasn’t as if she had never thought of possibly getting one but until then, none of her ideas had ever fueled her with the same sense of urgency as the one in her mind did now. Reaching into her front pants pocket for her wallet, she narrowed her eyes with purpose at the small scrap of paper that was Ben’s last note to her…  
  
~  
  
Night slowly creeping up on her, Ava felt lucky to have reached her apartment building before all the light in the day had vanished. Going to unlock the door with her key, she was numb to see Zoe render her attempt null in void, standing solemnly in its frame. The wounded-puppy-dog-look—a classic move.

"Ava, I—" she began, but she would have none of it, moving quickly towards the bathroom. Obviously not the best hide-out, but at least it had a lock.

"Not now, Zoe—I just want to be alone right now." came Ava’s retort, hand on the doorknob.

"Wait!" Zoe pleaded, catching her by the wrist. Ava faced her, gaze skeptical and tired. "Can I please just have a moment to explain myself? I promise it'll be quick.”  
  
Ava considered this, looking down and shaking her head lightly, unsure as to whether she really wanted to hear what her sister had to say.

"You don't need to, Zoe—" she tried to give her an easy-out, but it seemed Zoe wouldn’t accept it, dragging her over in a flash to sit on the sofa.

"Yes, I do.” she insisted, taking in a breath. “My behavior earlier today was atrocious. Your feelings are far more important than any silly old theatre tickets. God, I'm so sorry, Ava, you must think I'm the worst sister ever..." Zoe sniffled, tears welling in her eyes as she turned her face away. Frowning, Ava’s previous resolve crumbled at the image.

"Hey, no—I don't, and you're not. Everyone forgets things sometimes." she conceded, scooting closer to Zoe, and placing a hand over hers. "Besides, I may have overreacted a tad—it's just this day, I don't think I'll really be able to enjoy it ever again..." Ava confessed, heart aching in her chest.

"Oh, c'mon that's not true—I'm sure you will...” comforted Zoe, trailing off until another thought entered her mind. “Ooh! I could wipe your memory of it if you want?" she offered with a distastefully blithe smile. Ava could hardly believe what she’d just heard, recoiling from her touch at once.

"Of what, Zoe? Ben's death?" she demanded; disgust clear on her face.

"Well if you want me to, I could certainly try—” explained Zoe, as if she had just been asked for help doing someone’s hair. Ava rolled her eyes with a scoff, getting up from the couch and storming off in the direction of the bedroom. "Ava, I was joking! I don't even think that'd work!" she tried to defend herself, watching as her twin rifled through their closet in frantic search of something—pausing only to glare at her and say,

"The fact that you can ‘joke,’ about something like that tells me you really don't think it's that serious at all—and for that, I need a drink." Ava declared, what she’d been seeking in her grasp at last—a bright, eye-catching red-rubber party dress. If there was one thing, she had learned from the occasional night sneaking into clubs with Klaus, it was they always let pretty girls in—no matter their age. A frightful fact, but useful, nonetheless. Tearing off her top to put on the convincing outfit, it was when Zoe gasped that she was reminded of one of her earlier activities that day.

"What the hell is that?!" she shrieked, pointing to the large bandage on the left side of her chest.

"Nothing—can you shut the door? There's a draft." Ava dismissed, throwing on the dress as if there really were nothing to be shocked about. Glancing in the mirror as she zipped herself up, straining slightly to get to the very top, she wondered if she actually wanted to go out drinking or not. 

"Not until you tell me what happened!" Zoe ordered, grabbing her by the shoulder and spinning her around so they were facing each other once more.

"Hey—get off me!" Ava cried, struggling to get away under her firm hold when she felt an abrupt sting of pain rippling through her skin. "OW!" she yelped, whimpering when the sudden uptick in air on her freshly marked flesh amplified the burning sensation. Ben, it read in his distinct handwriting.

"You got a tattoo?! Without telling me?!" raved Zoe, bringing Ava back to reality.

"Yup, sure did!" she taunted, gesticulating with a sarcastic grin, wincing when she went to retrieve some accompanying heels from under her bed.

"You really have gone off the rails..." remarked Zoe, monotone and rather matter-of-factly. Ava laughed in disbelief, rising up to meet her with a steely gaze.

"’I've gone off the rails?’ Me? Well, if I'm off the rails, you are in a completely different station!" she countered the room with flair, Ben’s jacket slung over her shoulder.

"Ava, you're not going out like that," she heard Zoe, a warning tone in her voice.

"Oh, aren't I?" Ava dismissed this, proceeding to the front door.

"Ava!" she felt a hand clamp down onto her arm, but swiftly, she yanked it back and gave her own word of caution,

"Don't follow me." turning back towards chosen path, it was the next sentence Zoe uttered that zapped all her prior aloofness and reduced it into deep, unbridled rage. 

"Ben wouldn't have wanted to see you like this." they slithered off her tongue so nonchalantly, as if they had been lying in wait there all along.

"What?" Ava had to look at her, to make sure the person she was seeing was still human and not some emotionless robot built up solely to knock her down. Though if you’d have told her that, that was the truth—she would feel inclined to believe it, now more than ever.

“Oh god, Ava—I didn't mean it like—" Zoe stammered, getting cut off almost instantly.

"No, no—I know exactly how you meant it. Don't. Just don't.” Ava, in spite of the venom threatening to fly from her mouth, swallowed all her anger—voice even with noticeable disappointment. Silence prevailing, she took it as the perfect end to the discussion, but Zoe did not, it appeared.  
  
"Ava, I'm—"

"No!” Ava spat, about sick to death of excuses and lies. “You have no idea what he would've wanted because all you care about is yourself! You didn't care about him!" the whole of her was trembling, words and all as she let the last stones fall, "...and you don't care about me."

"Oh c'mon, you know that's not true!” Zoe still went on hopelessly. “You're not well—come on, let's just go sit down and talk about this,” it was strange to see her so desperate.

"What's there to say?" Ava posed, her disposition to the notion made clear. Lip quivering, she could tell just by looking at Zoe what her next move would be.

"Ava, please don't make me—"

"Make you what?! Knock me out—erase my memory? You know it's so easy to delude yourself into thinking you're in the right when the other person can't even remember half the shit you've pulled." Ava snarled, hands balling up into fists. "Well, I'm sick of it! I can't be around you anymore. Either I move out or you do. I don't really care which." and with that, she fled. Where she would go that night didn’t matter in that moment—anywhere far from Zoe would be good enough for her. What she didn’t expect was that would be the last time she would see her—for a very long time…  
  
~

“’Everything,’ huh?” Ava muttered, staring ahead contemplatively, Zoe still cuddled snuggly against her chest. Maybe today had been a brilliant one, after all…


	5. 005.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha hi all, I have no idea if anyone still remembers or cares about this story but I recently got back into TUA and thus became inspired to pick this up again! I can't promise I'll finish it but I'll sure as hell try! A slight warning for this one, there is a brief mention of overdose and drug/alcohol use — nothing explicit but I thought I should give a heads up to anyone who may be sensitive to those topics. Anyway, hope you all are doing well and as always, 
> 
> happy reading! :)
> 
> (editing as i go w/ these btw, will be touched up shortly)

_Nothing ever prepares you for the things you'd least expect, no matter how many possible outcomes you come up with or magic eight balls you consult, when something happens, all you can do is roll with it and hope for the best._

A valuable piece of advice from her mother and one Ava had taken to falling back on throughout her life, especially in recent years and especially now. Her sister was back, slumped over in the passenger seat of her car right beside her. If she weren't so concerned, she'd laugh, remembering how the roles had so often been reversed in the time she'd spent living with Zoe after Ben's death. 

It was the same story every time. She would go out, get wrecked on whatever she could get her hands on, Zoe would find her almost immediately after and drive her home, lecturing her as she fell in and out of a hazy slumber. Ava couldn't blame her for that, she knew what she was doing was self-destructive. That never seemed to stop her, though. No longer did she fear the assured explosion of ridicule and disappointment that followed her every act of reckless using. The high she chased was too tempting not to. 

Ava would sooner pursue the feeling of blinding numbness than the endless sadness that engulfed her every time she closed her eyes. 

It was only after Zoe had gone that she reconsidered. Without anyone there to remind her of why she shouldn't have been what she was, it became oddly easier to accept, herself. That, and waking up in a stranger's hot tub one morning definitely had, had something to do with it... 

Whatever the case may have been, Ava was proud to say she'd managed to stay sober ever since — eventually finding far less life-threatening activities to fill her time with and making more than a few new friends along the way. She wasn't quite sure where all of them were now — probably off getting married or having kids — a path she had thought she'd have joined them on already but no dice. There was the unexpected creeping up on her again, in all its unbridled chaos and demolition. 

What was worse — this destruction had a name; one that, up until then, had brought her only comfort and peace but now? 

"Who's Corey?" Zoe's voice rang out suddenly, causing Ava to gasp and slam quickly on the brakes, coming to an abrupt stop only a few meters from her apartment complex. Her mind was racing. Had she accidentally said his name out loud? She shook her head, feeling the weight of such a long day begin to set in. It didn't matter — there was no real reason to explain herself anyway, at least not now. Not when they were so many bigger things at hand. 

"Oh, no one, don't worry about it." Ava dismissed, pulling up to the first parking space she saw and lining her car up as fast as possible. "Why don't we get you inside, hm?" she said as she removed the keys from the ignition and turned to face Zoe; who was at that point, bundled up in one of Ava's baggy sweaters as well as an admittedly thin hospital-provided blanket. It was a rather funny sight to the receptionist, unused to seeing her usually all-serious and self-sufficient sister sitting there, practically helpless with a loopy smile on her lips no less. 

Muttering a slurred word of agreement, Ava was quick to climb out of her seat to meet Zoe at the passenger side door before she had the chance to inadvertently tumble out on her own. Taking her arm and draping it over her shoulder, she helped her onto the sidewalk, locking her car with her beeper as they went on their way towards her apartment. It was an old but sturdy building made up of red brick and dotted with square windows on its face. Built sometime in the 60s, her landlord had told her when she was scoping it out. 

Although Ava hadn't been in the pickiest of moods when she chose it, the sole driving force behind the move being her somewhat impulsive desire to get out of the house she had shared with the man's whose name she wouldn't speak for the past six years. What mutual friends of theirs she still spoke to every so often had mostly all voted against it, telling her to 'stand her ground,' and kick him out of he ever tried to come back again. And while she understood where they were coming from, seeing the man who had seemingly had no trouble ripping out her heart and crushing it in his hand was the last thing she wanted at the moment. 

A part of her was honestly glad they hadn't been married already — the thought of all the paperwork made her head spin. No, it was really better this way, Ava tried to tell herself. Perhaps she hadn't even been ready for marriage after all. Besides, she reminded herself, glancing over at Zoe as she helped her into her building's dimly-lit lobby, she had more important things—people—to worry about. 

"Is this your apartment, Ava? It looks so nice." chirped the highly-anesthetized girl, making her chuckle. 

"No, this is the foyer — my place is upstairs." Ava clarified, pointing upwards to which Zoe nodded with an 'ohh,' of understanding. Giving the security guard on his nightly shift the brief flash of a smile, hoping to curb any inquiries with it she was glad when it did, him returning the gesture and motioning for her go ahead to the elevator. Stepping onto the lift, Ava couldn't help but wonder how many times her sister had done the same with her slung awkwardly across her shoulder. History repeats itself, she supposed. 

Getting off on her floor after a short trip, Ava took care in guiding Zoe to her door, supporting her weight as best she could as she fumbled to find her key. Locating it following a few seconds, she felt a sense of relief wash over her at the familiar sight of her living room came into view with the blind flick of a light switch.

"Well, here it is. Home sweet home." said Ava in spite of herself, closing the door behind her to more easily assist Zoe to a spot on her sofa. 

"I like it — much better than the other one." remarked the blonde girl airily, making Ava wonder for a moment whether it was still the sedatives talking or if her sister was making an honest attempt at a joke. The latter would be a welcome surprise, if not highly unlikely. Although, maybe it wasn't, she hadn't seen her in many years and believed it was very true time could change a person. Maybe for her, it had been for the better. "What are all the boxes for though?" 

Ava grimaced at the question. She had not yet managed to get everything unpacked, owing it mostly to her rather busy work schedule at the start of her time there and if she was being honest, her conflicted feelings to do so at all. A part of her, one she had not had the heart to silence just yet, still held out hope that the whole thing with Corey had been some sort of impossible nightmare. One where when she woke up, those boxes would be on the floor of their forever home rather than the den of isolation she found herself in now. 

"Oh, I just moved in a few weeks ago — haven't had the time to unpack it all yet, you know? You'd be surprised how much stuff you have when you have to load it all into your car." Ava answered with a light laugh, trying to steer the conversation away from in-depth details about her love life. 

"Mm, I'm sure I would — probably why I keep so few possessions. Does make traveling a lot easier." Zoe mused, eyes flitting to and fro across the room. 

"Traveling? You been doing a lot of that since we last saw each other?" inquired Ava, genuinely curious as to the prospect of this. For all their lives, she had never shown a great interest in the idea, often shooting down many of Ava's plans to see the world once they'd grown up, going so far as to say it was a 'waste of time.' Fiddling with the fraying material of a spare hair tie on her wrist, Ava tried to silence her thoughts and remember that age-old saying. People change. 

"Mmhmm! I've sort of been all over — the world is more beautiful than I originally thought. Niagara Falls? Gorgeous. Very wet — but gorgeous! Ah, I wish you could've been there, Ava..." Zoe confessed, looking off longingly as if to imagine a world in which they had never fallen out the way they had. Ava sighed, wanting to indulge in conjuring up the same what-if scenarios but found simply that she couldn't. The present held too much uncertainty for her to ignore. She had to say what was on her mind. 

"What happened?" Ava posed, hoping with this seemingly newfound calm about her, Zoe would be more receptive to a heart-to-heart. 

"Ah — got hit by a car — damn Kia Souls..." Zoe explained, forcing Ava to stifle a laugh and inadvertently reminding how she had forgotten to ask what had landed her in the hospital in the first place. 

"I meant between us but I am sorry about that." she resolved, wincing at the mental image of being struck by such a vehicle. Zoe gave her a look of resignation, the same shame that had overcome her before in her hospital room clearly returning. Remorse rising in her chest for such asking such a loaded question with little to no warning, Ava rushed to her side as she hung her head in her hands. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"No, no, you have every right to ask." Zoe insisted, rubbing a hand over her face in regret. Ava had never seen her so vulnerable — it was almost surreal. "It was me — it was all me. My thoughtlessness — no, my _selfishness_ is what broke us apart. I never should've said or done any of the things I did to you. I just wanted so badly to believe I was doing the right thing—protecting you—like every big-sister would, you know? But I was wrong — so wrong... You deserved the chance to go off and make your own decisions and I'm so sorry I ever tried to take that from you, Ava. I really am." she finished, sincerity in her eyes as she placed a hand over Ava's, squeezing it as she had done earlier. 

Taking everything she'd said in as fast as she could, Ava hugged her sister without a second thought, wondering then fleetingly if this was an unconscious attempt to confirm it wasn't a dream. 

"I forgive you." she said, still reveling in the feeling of relief and comfort the embrace gave her. Pulling back, Ava wondered if her next words were as well-thought out as they could've been but believed in the maturity they brought nonetheless. "But it wasn't all you. I could be a reckless jerk so much of the time... And I know you were just trying to look out for me, even if you went too far sometimes. There are times I look back on all that time we spent at the academy fighting about nothing and you know what my biggest regret is?" 

" _Not_ punching me in the face?" 

"Wha—no! No, not at all. Well, maybe at the time." Ava allowed with a playful smile. "No, it was allowing my pride to keep me from making up with you or just talking like this. Would've made things a whole lot easier..." she posited, gaze wandering with her thoughts of what could've been. 

"Maybe but you have to remember we were both children. Hardly anything's easy at that age, especially for two world-famous twin sisters." Zoe pointed out, putting on a sing-songy tone of voice at the end. Shaking her head with a laugh, Ava was quick to correct her, 

"I think you were the famous one." 

"Mm, perhaps — but you know I never could've done it without you." assured the blonde, a genuine smile forming on her lips. "Sisters?" Zoe queried, raising her pinky finger for Ava to shake just as they had always done when they were little girls. Ava laughed again. How could she refuse? Linking pinkies, she answered accordingly, reaffirming a bond she had, up until then, thought she'd lost for good, 

"Sisters."

~

Ben huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, looking on in disappointment as Klaus was resuscitated from yet another overdose. It had become such a common occurrence that he almost couldn't bring himself to worry that he wouldn't make it anymore. Not that he could do much about it if something did in fact, go severely wrong. That was the curse of being dead. Of choosing not to go into the light like he had originally been told to do. 

For a while, he hadn't been able to say for sure why he had rejected the prospect of eternal peace, originally thinking it was his brother's powers tethering him to this murky state of in-between but quickly realized the truth of the matter. 

_'I don’t know if you can hear me, Ben but… I want you to know I love you—I always will.'_

Ben could feel his chest tighten at even just the thought of her, the sensation nearly the same as when he was still alive. When he could still see her in person and not just in his memories, when he could touch her, hold her... 

Though the clarity he wished he could provide as for the exact details of his death was as hazy as everyone else's, he had never stopped blaming himself for it. For what it did to her, to everyone he ever loved. 

A day Ben was sure he'd never forget, however, was his funeral. Never before had he seen Ava so furious, so sad, so completely heartbroken. 

_'I never wanna see you again! I never wanna see **any of you** again!'_

What was worse, he had only been summoned by Klaus after she'd already left — leaving the last time he'd seen her a horrific bust overall. There was no chance at comforting her, reassuring her that it hadn't been her fault, hell, he didn't even have the chance to give her the whole 'I'm in a better place now,' speech, although he currently knew that last part to be total bullshit, anyway. 

The only times Ben ever caught glimpses of her were in the moments she spoke directly to him and those were almost always just her voice alone. But he didn't mind, anything was better than nothing. A phrase which he had become all too familiar with in recent times. At first, the messages came very regularly, him hearing her nearly every night. They were never anything too special or profound, most often just recounts of the day she'd had or a brief remark of how much she missed him; but to Ben, they were everything. 

By the way he reacted to them, Klaus would've thought she was reciting him the most beautiful sonnets known to man or as he had once joked, something far dirtier than they had ever even been with each other. Ben was more than a little annoyed at the comment, made worse when his attempt at a swat on his brother's arm refused to connect, going straight through the limb like fog through an open window. 

He supposed he should've expected these nightly check-ins to wane eventually but even so, he found himself more disheartened than expected when they ceased entirely. It wasn't that he thought she had forgotten him but that he had virtually no other way of making sure she was alright. No other way, save for one he didn't even see as a possibility. Go into the light. 

Ben remembered being told he would be able to watch over his loved ones from there but something else in him told him not to trust it. Who knows what they tell people to get them to let go? Besides, he told himself, looking after Klaus was difficult enough down on earth — it'd probably be near impossible to do it from up there... 

Yes, it seemed the best option for him was to remain where he was, no matter how it pained him to not be able to see Ava and to be forced to watch his brother continue on in the same viscous cycle he'd been trapped in since they were teens. Watching as Klaus rose up from the stretcher, a ludicrous grin on his face as he high-fived the EMT overseeing him, Ben frowned. Was this really the best option? 

The task of pondering such a decision, however, was swiftly interrupted by a sudden newsflash on the small, 4-inch tv perched on the counter across from them. 

"Moments ago, police reported the death of the most eccentric and reclusive billionaire, Sir Reginald Hargreeves." announced the news anchor, her voice and all other noise melting away in an instant the second the information registered in the brothers minds. Sparing each other a passing glance of knowing shock, Ben was the first to voice his feelings on the matter in the most eloquent of ways, 

"Shit..." 


End file.
